chroma
by justjoy
Summary: The Suzuki zaibatsu has been a household name for long enough that people tend to forget that money this old didn't just come from nowhere. Masumi doesn't blame them. It's hard, after all, to look at the name attached to the Bell Tree Tower's soaring heights and imagine that it could reach down just as deep into murky waters. [Or: the BO!girls AU.]
1. Chapter 1

_in response to anon who asked for org!girls_

* * *

The Suzuki zaibatsu has been a household name for long enough that people tend to forget that money this old didn't just come from nowhere.

Masumi doesn't blame them. It's hard, after all, to look at the name attached to the Bell Tree Tower's soaring heights and imagine that it could reach down just as deep into murky waters.

(But of course she knows better. Only unofficially, of course, since she'd gotten her codename not that long ago and shouldn't yet know any of this, but – well. Masumi _is _just as good a recon agent as she is a hitman, but luckily for them she's also just as fiercely loyal to the Organisation above all.)

–

Not that there's anything vague in the least about any of it: not the covertly transmitted assignments she receives on the regular, not the supply caches (of both the weaponry and wardrobe varieties) all over Tokyo, certainly not the forceful dismantling of the Karasuma and Ooka families and their fortunes – even if they'd been nominally left standing like so many empty shells.

No, the only thing suspect is how well it'd all been covered up even as it happened. Clearly Suzuki the youngest – _Sonoko_, she'd gathered from her regular mission partner who'd immediately flushed red and made her swear not to tell anyone right before she'd headed off to execute the hit – had inherited her PR mojo from those before her. It isn't the type of thing Masumi herself has any patience for but she appreciates the value of a good cover.

Much easier to get a bead on your target when you're firmly on high society's top list of socialites to invite, after all. Even if it admittedly _is_ said partner who usually slips into those dresses and roles, leaving Masumi to appreciate from afar, preferably through a good rifle scope and optional CCTV.

And appreciate she definitely does (well, save the few times she'd donned a tux and joined in when they needed a close-up rather than distance work). Because _damn_ does Mouri Ran ever know how to dress up and do it well when she puts her mind to it, even if her makeup case comes equipped a secret compartment of blades and poisons.

As if Masumi hadn't personally witnessed her render two men senseless via near-invisible strikes and still look drop-dead (ha) gorgeous after.

–

"I _keep_ telling her not to buy me a new outfit every time," Mouri says, muffled into her hands, when their R&D expert delivers a deep emerald gown that shines iridescent under the lights of the hotel they're using for this mission.

It contrasts nicely with the blush creeping mortified above the neckline of the bluish-grey sweater she's now wearing. Mouri tends towards comfortable clothes in neutral tones when they're off-duty or on less ostentatious missions, but Masumi's seen enough to know that she doesn't mind anywhere near as much as her protests might suggest, and more importantly she trust Suzuki's taste implicitly, even if dark green would never look good on anyone else.

(It's equal odds whether this piece is a custom one or simply a yet-unreleased next season item. Too bad that being secret precluded holding a runway event, really.)

Miyano huffs and thrusts the garment bag in their direction with a rustle of fabric. "Just hurry up and take this already. I haven't got all day, _someone_ actually needs to design all that wonderfully infallible equipment you all keep trying to break."

Masumi moves forward to grab the bag, tossing it carelessly onto one of the beds (to a near-tangible surge of dismay). "_In_fallible, huh," she says slowly, and doesn't point out the less-than-random patterns of failure she's started to notice, always when there would've been fatal consequences to their targets otherwise – enjoys the way Miyano stiffens up, unnoticeably but completely, as she saunters by her out the half-ajar door.

…and, well. Maybe she isn't _so_ loyal to the Organisation, after all.

* * *

_you thought sera would be bourbon. surprise she's actually vermouth_

_also what was i gonna do with literally canon org!shiho? in one word: KIR_


	2. Chapter 2

"Does it ever bother you? I mean, all this stuff we do."

Ran can tell Sonoko's thinking seriously about the question from the way she bites half-absently at the straw in her drink between sips; it's one thing she appreciates about her friend-slash-boss-plus-whatever-this-is, the way that Sonoko always knows without fail when to answer with careful consideration instead of a light laugh.

"Can't say it does. At least not since Papa and Jirokichi-ojisama explained what we're trying to achieve." Her milkshake chooses this point to run out with a loud _slorrrp_, and Sonoko gives the empty glass a betrayed look as she sets it back down. "Something on your mind?"

"I don't know," Ran replies honestly, twirling a stray strand of spaghetti about her fork. It's delicious, as all the places Sonoko brings them to invariably are, and some back part of her mind is occupied with trying to figure out the recipe, but mostly –

Ran shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge her thoughts into some semblance of order. It'd been nothing short of convoluted, how she ended up in the Organisation, but she's never had cause to question it since either. Still doesn't, really, save for the niggling doubt she'd had ever since waking up this morning.

When she glances up again Sonoko is looking back at her, a strain behind her eyes that would've been invisible if you didn't know her well. "You want out, Ran? If you ever do, just… tell me, I'll figure something out."

But Ran knows her well, knows the sincerity in her forward lean and the sharp certainty in her vowels – _I could, for you; I would_. Just like she knows for all that Sonoko commands a good third of the agents now, it's nothing against her parents and the rest whose names Sonoko won't mention aloud, not even to her.

Ran reaches over for her hand, catches it and squeezes, lightly. "Never mind. Forget I said anything, alright?"

Sonoko eyes her for a moment longer before nodding. "Right. I'm parched, you want another drink?"


End file.
